


Arrow and Quiver

by KivaEmber



Series: Persona 5 Oneshots [17]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mental Breakdown, Post-November 20 Interrogation (Persona 5)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25162657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: His hands did not shake.Or;The immediate aftermath of the Interrogation Room.
Series: Persona 5 Oneshots [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101845
Comments: 6
Kudos: 182





	Arrow and Quiver

Goro’s hands did not shake. 

It was an absent observation, where he went through the methodical motions of navigating his way through the police station without drawing suspicion. The hour was late and Shido’s influence ensured Goro had the time to do his… deed, but it wouldn’t do well to rush away from the… scene if there was no need to. He was Akechi Goro, Detective Prince, calmly walking through a police station like he belonged. He was not Akechi Goro, Who Just Killed His- Rival, fighting the urge to break into a sprint with every step he took. 

His hands did not shake, but his pulse certainly pounded like they were. 

The commotion started once he reached the ground floor and was close to the lobby. Goro ducked into the nearby toilets to avoid the worst of it, finding it blissfully empty. Of course it would be. It was one in the morning and everyone was now frantic about their main suspect found dead in custody. The coroner would rule it as suicide, even if it was obvious that-

Goro stopped in front of the sinks. He looked deathly pale. 

_But my hands aren’t shaking,_ came the absent thought, and they weren’t. Yet he looked pale, his pupils a little too dilated, and there was an awful feeling rising in him. There was no name to it, no real description, but he gripped the edges of the sink with his not shaking hands and tried to breathe through it. 

He was waiting for the call. Shido would call him, and Goro will confirm it. _Yes, sir, I am sure. I did the deed myself-_

He looked at his hands, tightly gripping the sink. There was no blood splatter, and the gloves were dark enough that they would hide any minute droplets. That was good, he ensured to stay at a distance to reduce risk of bloodstains to a minimal, though he hadn’t expected Akira to pitch forwards like that.

Pitch forwards like that. Goro remembered that - that - **_crnnch_** noise of Akira’s head hitting the table and blood splattered like juice from a squashed fruit-

The nausea rushed him so quickly he barely made it to the stall in time.

Awful, awful, awful, awful, awful.

A miserable moment later, he was coughing into the toilet, stomach cramping and spasming as he barely fought down the dry heaves. Fuck. He just _won_ and here he is on his knees in some filthy public bathroom, heaving into a toilet. Pathetic. Useless. This isn’t the first time he has _killed_ someone- 

_first time in the real world,_ came the traitorous thought and fuck, he could feel his hands start to shake, violently, fingers slipping against the edge of the toilet as he roughly pulled them through his hair instead. 

The diazepam was wearing off. Of course it was. Probably what made him throw up. Yes, that. 

Goro didn’t move from his pathetic huddle against the toilet. He had to get up, though. He couldn’t risk someone walking in and asking questions. _Why are you throwing up in the toilet, Akechi? Why do you look so pale, Akechi? Why do you look so_ **_guilty_** _, Akechi?_

Not guilty. Not guilty. Not guilty. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. It took several tries for him to get it out, and he dropped it once on the floor. 

_Get it together!_

He answered with clumsy hands as he pushed himself up off the floor. Shido’s voice filtered through. Ah, he hoped he didn’t hear the acoustics of the toilet stall. Goro was supposed to be far from the police station at this point. 

_“Has it been done?”_

“Yes,” Goro said, and his voice was a strange, disconnected thing. He pressed his free hand against his chest, forced himself to breathe even and slow, calm, even if his heart thundered against his sternum hard enough to hurt. Stop it. Stop it, he shouldn’t be having these reactions. He won. He won. 

_“Are you_ **_sure_** _?”_

“Yes,” Goro heard someone say in his voice, “I witnessed it firsthand, sir. It is done.”

His hands were still shaking. 

_“Good. The others should deal with the situation on their own,”_ Shido said, _“As for the other Phantom Thieves…”_

Something lurched low in his belly at that, icy and hot at once. _Again?_ Something in him whined, _i can’t do this again!_

Persona-users didn’t have Shadows. The only way to kill them would be- 

_“I want you to compile their identities for me,”_ Shido ordered, _“As you have worked so hard, you won’t have to do much more than that.”_

“What?” Goro’s voice said dumbly. 

Shido just laughed at him, _“Professionals can deal with a bunch of kids outside the Metaverse! You did well, though. Once you get me those profiles, take a break. You’ve earned it. I mean,”_ Shido’s voice twisted in that way of his, cruel amusement, _“You did just kill someone for it.”_

The call disconnected. 

Goro put his phone back in his pocket. 

His gaze roamed the inside of the toilet stall restlessly, his thoughts hitting a dull, flat note of _nothing_. He should leave, go home, take a shower ( _several showers_ ) and sleep. He had school tomorrow. Did he? At least he had work. Sae-san would be in a frothing fury, dealing with the main suspect of the Mental Shutdown cases committing suicide in custody. Goro will need to be well-rested to deal with that. 

It’s one in the morning. He will only get three hours of sleep, if that, going home now. 

Goro sat down on the floor again. 

This should have been easy. It _was_ easy. Like shooting fish in a barrel-

He leaned over the toilet again when his stomach clenched, gasping through the dry heaves. He hated this. He _hated_ this. He shouldn’t be feeling a _thing,_ Joker brought it upon himself, he got in the way, he should have stopped, the diazepam should be making him _calm_ not all _this_ , why was he so _pathetic-_

The bathroom door opened, a pair of voices talking in low, serious tones. Goro immediately stood up and flushed the toilet. 

Normal. Crush it all down. 

Somehow he did, in the space of the toilet finishing its flush, Goro tore everything up and crammed it down into a tiny little ball. He felt nothing when he left the stall, avoiding the gaze of the other two occupants. He removed his gloves and washed his hands in the sink. He left. 

He didn’t remember leaving the station. 

He barely remembered getting home. 

He did remember locking his handgun with the silencer somewhere inconvenient. He remembered exactly where it was. 

He remembered getting in his bathtub and turning the water on max heat. He did not remove his clothes. 

He remembered staying in the water until it was cold and he was shivering and then he got out. 

By then it was four in the morning, and he had less than two hours to resume life like he hadn’t just killed Joker. He remembered staring at his reflection, the glassy, blank eyes, the pale face, and noted that, finally, his hands had stopped shaking. 

The nausea stayed. 

Briefly, he wondered what would happen if he just didn’t… go out. What role did he have to play now that Joker was gone? The Detective Prince? For what? Shido? Goro had enjoyed the fame and attention that role had brought, but now it felt unbearably empty and tedious. Without Joker- 

Goro wrenched his bathroom mirror open and took out the diazepam. 

Two hours later, and his mask was firmly in place. He felt out of it, but the mask was in place, he felt nothing, and he could proceed with his life until he put his bullet in Shido’s skull. In fact, he will make sure to put two in, in a ‘Joker sends his regards’ kind of way. It was only fair. 

Goro sent his reflection in the mirror a smile. The Detective Prince smile; sweet and charming and perfect. He was not pale, and his make up covered up the dark bruises under his eyes. His emotions were distant, untouchable things, and that was how it will be until this dirty business was over with. 

(his hands, however, kept shaking)

**Author's Note:**

> i've thought about this too much ok


End file.
